Curvy Body Quotes

And mostly, I’m furious that I live in a world that has the power to make me feel ugly and unlovable because of my body.

My body—I do not fall to pieces and be reduced to a big pile of lovable mush over a woman, never!

Your body is yours. My body is mine. No one's body is up for comment. No matter how small, how large, how curvy, how flat. If you love you, then I love you.

If I didn’t know my body, I’d swear I just had a small orgasm…

The reality was my life wasn't miserable because I was curvy; I was miserable because I thought I'd be happier if I were thinner.

There are no corners to by body. I am round, round, round.

To all the girls that think you’re ugly because you’re not a size 0, you’re the beautiful one. It’s society who’s ugly.

Her curvy hips and small waist, her perfectly sized breasts and round ass are imploring me to corrupt every inch of her. Her decadent body was built to be fucked in the most scandalous and wanton ways imaginable and I’m just the man to do it.

My eye is on the prize, and she’s one petite, curvy redhead who owns my body, mind and soul.

Oral sex is one of the most intimate sex acts you can take part in, and in many ways it can feel more intimate than penetrative sex. It is a vulnerable act in which you relinquish control of your most private and sensitive body part to your partner.

Like, yes, Olivia is kind of curvy, and Mina didn’t say it like an insult. I know it’s not an insult. But I just hate when people talk about bodies.

Thin, thick, tall, small, slender, curvy, curly, straight, dark, light, that body, with every detail is YOURS alone, look at it with compassion.

Tom couldn't take his gaze from Cassandra. Her wide, wondering eyes were like soft blue midnight, star-glittered with forgotten tears. The curves of her body looked firm and sweet, no hard angles or straight lines anywhere... nothing but inviting, sensual softness. If she were his... he might finally have the sense of ease other men had. No more spending every minute of the day striving and hungering and never feeling sated. "I'll marry you," Tom told her. "Any time. Any terms.

Buoyancy also lifts the ego when other body parts start to droop. Curvy people float better than lean beans, and women more than men, because even at our slimmest, we have an extra layer of fat distributed throughout our bodies.

Yes,” I whisper. “Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs, his fingers still on my cheek. “I love your curvy body.” My eyes widen. “Don’t frown.” He kisses me between my eyebrows, as if he’s smoothing the frown from my face. “I’m not so sure about my curvy body.” It’s a whispered admission that I’ve never made before, and frankly, I’ve never felt this vulnerable. His blue gaze meets mine again, and each word is staccato: “You. Are. Beautiful.” I close my eyes, but he tips my chin, forcing me to look at him again. “Thank you.” His

The road to getting present with my body through yoga didn’t start with angels singing or deep flashes of insight into the nature of reality. Instead, it started with the most fleeting, easy-to-catch moments of just feeling good: nothing more complex, or profound, than that.

Jodi in tactical gear was something to behold. Pert, a lot shorter than I am, blond hair tucked under a helmet, cinched into body armor never intended to mold to the body of a curvy woman. Ugly but efficient attire. Someone needs to talk to armor designers about female body shapes and style.

Yes, orgasm can be an incredible feeling that allows you to fully take advantage of your anatomy and surrender to all the joys that can lead up to your climax. But whether you orgasm at all or you have multiple orgasms during sex, it’s just part of the pleasure-filled journey—not the culmination or result.

The woman was the kind of woman that the British find breathtakingly sexy and I could never figure out why. She had short, dark hair that was a little bit spiky on top and a curvy little body. She was cute, I supposed, but was no goddess. She wasn't worthy of him. And yet Sean looked like he wanted to eat her up.

That was what you were trained to do as a plus-size girl—cover up. Turn around. Hide. Don’t expose anyone to your body in case it made them uncomfortable. Never mind how that secrecy made you feel like your body was something to be ashamed of. According to our society, your body wasn’t for you. It was for you to show everyone else.

Look. I will not be told what size to be. I do not care about anyone else’s judgment about my body. I am not interested in anyone else’s ideas of what I’m supposed to look like. I believe everyone’s body is theirs and everyone has a right to love their body in whatever size and shape and package it comes in. I will fight for anyone’s right to do so. I will kick ass and take names if I have to. Your body is yours. My body is mine. No one’s body is up for comment. No matter how small, how large, how curvy, how flat. If you love you, then I love you. But this is not about loving me. I don’t FEEL good. And while part of me means it emotionally, I mostly mean it physically. I don’t FEEL GOOD.

Using lube has been known to make penetrative sex last longer, and even a drop in the well of a condom can make wearing one a lot more comfy.

Sensuality is all about your own personal path to pleasure, the courage to explore it, and the confidence that comes from understanding that part of you.

I get asked this question the most: “What’s your number-one tip for improving someone’s sex life?” My answer is always “Communication.

Continuously ask yourself, “What makes me feel confident, comfortable, grounded, joyful, connected, and mischievous?” Start noticing when you feel that way and why.

Curvy people float better than lean beans, and women more than men, because even at our slimmest, we have an extra layer of fat distributed throughout our bodies.

She’s thick, curvy, her body winding and dipping like it was sculpted for a hungry man, and fuck me, I’m starving.

Her body is ridiculous in the best way possible. It’s thick and curvy, and yeah, there’s a bit more to hold on to, but that’s definitely not a bad thing.

Society, advertising, and magazines want women to believe that thinness and perfect skin are synonymous with beauty, that it’s impossible to be attractive without these unattainable standards. But this is clearly wrong; most men love curves, stretch marks, and even your cellulitis that you abhor. So, caress them with a smile because they are the very sign of your femininity.

By all accounts, my left foot has something very feminine about it. It's curvy, like Suzanne. The flesh is milky, and the skin is delicate just like the skin on Suzanne's temples, with the veins clearly marked in blue. The nails are pearly, the toes long and dainty like fingers. The instep has none of the unattractiveness so evident in other parts of my body. It has an elegance shared only with Suzanne.

Being in better tune with our sense helps to release some of our inhibitions and embrace the more open and playful parts of ourselves. Owning your sexiness builds confidence and encourages boldness in our everyday lives. When you feel sensual, you are better able to feel sexy. And when you feel sexy, you’re feeling positive—and I think we can all agree that feeling positive makes a huge difference in our daily lives.

Each of our bodies is unique. We may share the same basic make-up as men and women, but we certainly don't feel everything the same. What feels good on your body may not always feel good on someone else's body and that is absolutely natural.

Her breasts were full and high, her hips curvy, and the triangle of curly strawberry blond hair at the juncture of her thighs was as visible as her dusky rose nipples. Conall heard Payton move away, but didn't take his eyes off Claray. She was a sight to make a man's mouth water and his cock spring up, ready for action, and he was experiencing both right then. He wanted to taste those dusky nipples rather than just touch them, and he wanted to bury his face between her legs and sample her sweetness.

It might surprise you to know that the missionary position is most women’s favorite position. Missionary may at first glance seem boring, but it is also one of the most versatile positions. There are endless ways to modify it and take it to new levels.

Sure she had a little extra weight on her body, but since when does a number on the scale dictate who you are? She was a smart, fun, and good person, and that should count for something. And she was pretty, so what if she carried a few extra pounds, she was still a pretty girl,

Fantasies are an essential part of a healthy sex life. Respecting and expressing your own needs in a responsible and loving way builds your sexual confidence. Never forget that you are in charge of your own sexuality, and you deserve an exciting, sensual, and communicative sex life!

Accepting your body means accepting that sexual pleasure is not meant just for other people. Sex is a human right. Take back that right! Empower yourself as a sexy, sensual woman by discovering your likes and dislikes, turn-ons and turn-offs, and the positions that give you the most pleasure.

Trailblazers in feminist Porn include female filmmakers like Tristan Taormino and Erika Lust, who make certain that their actors are treated fairly and respectfully. They create sexy, sensual visuals and storylines, and always make certain their actors have chemistry, connection, and real orgasms.

It starts before you can remember: you learn, as surely as you learn to walk and talk, the rules for being a girl... Put a little color on your face. Shave your legs. Don’t wear too much makeup. Don’t wear short skirts. Don’t distract the boys by wearing bodysuits or spaghetti straps or knee socks. Don’t distract the boys by having a body. Don’t distract the boys. Don’t be one of those girls who can’t eat pizza. You’re getting the milk shake too? Whoa. Have you gained weight? Don’t get so skinny your curves disappear. Don’t get so curvy you aren’t skinny. Don’t take up too much space. It’s just about your health. Be funny, but don’t hog the spotlight. Be smart, but you have a lot to learn. Don’t be a doormat, but God, don’t be bossy. Be chill. Be easygoing. Act like one of the guys. Don’t actually act like one of the guys. Be a feminist. Support the sisterhood. Wait, are you, like, gay? Maybe kiss a girl if he’s watching though—that’s hot. Put on a show. Don’t even think about putting on a show, that’s nasty. Don’t be easy. Don’t give it up. Don’t be a prude. Don’t be cold. Don’t put him in the friend zone. Don’t act desperate. Don’t let things go too far. Don’t give him the wrong idea. Don’t blame him for trying. Don’t walk alone at night. But calm down! Don’t worry so much. Smile! Remember, girl: It’s the best time in the history of the world to be you. You can do anything! You can do everything! You can be whatever you want to be! Just as long as you follow the rules.

Lube helps to prevent micro-tears on the delicate skin in and on the genitals, which leave us vulnerable to sexually transmitted infections. Lube also makes the friction between your vagina (or anus) and whatever is being inserted silky and comfortable, as well as aids in smooth and nongrating hand sex.

Spooning and sideways positions can get hot and dirty but they also can be about building connection and closeness. If you want to get super intimate and close, sideways sex can get deep quick when you’re skin-to-skin against your lover and moving in rhythm together. Your bodies feel snug and more conjoined than ever.

Knowing how you like to be touched and being able to communicate that kindly to a partner is a major component of a satisfying sex life. But how do you know what makes your body sing if you haven’t spent some time finding out? Solo sex (masturbation) is a natural way to understand what your particular body likes and how it likes to be aroused.

For the curvy gal, a wand like the Original Magic Wand, is essential because of its length and strength; it can navigate over a large stomach to reach the clit with ease. Another reason a wand is a fantastic tool to keep close is that girls with big tummies can tuck the handle of the wand under their soft belly to hold it in place during missionary-style sex.

Mutual masturbation can be a terrific precursor to intercourse, or it can be a main event all on its own. I’m a big proponent of mutual masturbation for couples looking to reestablish intimacy in their relationship. Masturbating each other or in front of each other can build anticipation, tease each other, and serve as foreplay. There’s so much room to explore.

The fact of the matter is that the positions you might see porn stars doing are not positions the rest of us can do right off the bat, if at all. These actors are professionals—in fact, think of them as trained athletes. You wouldn’t expect to wake up on a Sunday morning and run a marathon without any training, would you? Athletic accomplishments, including sexual ones, take practice.

She was everything he loved about a woman wrapped up in a cute little package. Golden blonde hair was secured to the top of her head in a ponytail, he bet it would reach her waist when it was loose. Her body was curvy in all the right places, her breasts more than filled out the T-shirt she was wearing and those hips, dang he could just imagine holding onto them while she rode him, instead of Big Red.

So it is with sexual pleasure. Sure, I can show you the positions that work best if you’re a plus-size woman, but none of it will help you enjoy sex if you don’t know how to perceive and extract pleasure from your own body . . . and I’m not just talking about orgasm. The first step to experiencing sexual pleasure is knowing how our bodies are built to give us pleasure so we can take advantage of all they have to offer!

Increasing Water Intake   During this time is when I really start to stress the importance of water and how it helps us regulate our bodies and keep us healthy. We are 80% water, believe it or not. Water keeps us hydrated and allows for proper nutrients to flow about our body as we need them. You can see now why it is so important. Now that you are more active, it is even more important to get your water intake levels up. Did you know that not having adequate water intake

Sexual Arousal and Foreplay: If we’re to believe that what we see in movies, our sexual rendezvous would consist of 10 seconds of kissing, 5 seconds of groping, and another 5 seconds closing the deal. A straightforward sex scene doesn’t commonly show the female arousal process, and a lot of the time, this process is key in order to have a really satisfying sexual experience. Fooling around a lot before part A goes into slot B gets the female body prepped for sex in very important way.

When I’m asked what the number-one tip for better sex is, I always say conscious breathing. By controlling your breath, you also control the oxygen in your bloodstream. Highly oxygenated blood gives our bodies more energy and helps our organs function to their highest potential. Just learning how to do one very simple specific breathing technique—like Breath of Fire or synchronized breathing with your partner—during sex and at climax can significantly improve your pleasure in the moment.

I sometimes use the word “fat,” as I consider it to be an accurate descriptor of some curvy gals, including me. I believe using “fat” in a nonpejorative way helps destigmatize and inure us to the word as the insult it’s become, and gets us used to seeing it as it was meant to be used: As a neutral descriptor. I use the words curvy, plus-size, zaftig, plump, larger, and bigger in the same spirit. Some of these words may make you bristle at first, but they are not meant negatively but solely as adjectives.

Vaginal tissue does not stretch out with use, no matter how much you use it or how large the penis or toy is that it’s used with. For comparison, think of your mouth and how it is stretched and manipulated every day, yet it retains its shape—the same goes for your vagina. But like any muscle, the PC muscles that surround the vaginal canal can get weaker with age and after giving birth. Doing Kegel exercises regularly can help keep the PC muscles from losing their grip and might make your vagina feel “tighter” around a penis if clenched during sex.

Dude, wait until you see the hot little number on there!” He was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “What are you talking about? Aren’t all flight attendant’s middle-aged, blonde women?” “Not this one. She’s feisty too, kneed me right in the balls.” I smiled, and it was actually genuine. I wondered if he was fucking with me. But, it was enough to peak my curiosity. I slowly walked towards the plane wondering if it was going to be a grandma, or something. It wouldn’t be the first time. I really hoped that it wasn’t some die-hard groupie either. As soon as I reached the top of the stairs I almost tripped and fell on my face when I got my first look at her. She was gorgeous! She looked like she walked straight off of a pin-up girl calendar. She had long, black hair with strands of hot pink. I appraised my way down her body. She had a slim waist and curvy hips. She was built like an hourglass. I noticed a couple of sexy facial piercings. She had an adorable little nose and big brown eyes. Then I saw a tattoo peeking out on her shoulder. I could tell that she had a chest piece. I was instantly hard. Awesome…

When it comes to getting down, I look at sex like food, and sensuality is its flavor. Like food, sex can be satiating. It feeds our hunger and nourishes our body—you might even argue we need it to live. But if you think about it, making food delicious to eat and crave-worthy relies on flavor. Flavor is unique to the chef preparing the food and then interpreted by the palate of the taster. A food’s flavor, and thus sensuality, can be simple or it can be sweet or spicy, or it can open up a variety of senses. Everyone is his or her own chef—with diners who crave their dishes.

Snowflakes stick to his sooty eyelashes, his eyes warm brown. I am no more afraid of him than I was in the lower level of the temple. He radiates warmth and safety, riveting me with the trust he engenders. I want to tuck myself against his tall, muscled form and curl into his body heat, like a rabbit in a burrow. My cheeks flame in embarrassment. I should not feel this way. I did not react so favorably to the rajah. His touch, his voice, and his smell were repulsive. But every nerve ending in my body comes alive near Captain Naik. Beside him, my slenderness feels delicate, curvy, and even womanly.

As females, most of us have spent a lifetime being inundated with the message that our worth is inextricably linked to our attractiveness. We are trained from our earliest years to turn a critical eye on ourselves: Are we thin enough? Too thin? Tall enough? Too tall? Athletic enough? Too athletic? Curvy enough? Too curvy? And the list goes on. The ideal of attractiveness is mercurial and capricious, ever-shifting and forever-out-of-reach. It is an impossible ideal by its very nature. And it is a lie. To walk through life with calm assurance, clothed in confidence in our femininity and self-worth, requires that we first recognize and reject the lie that our worth is tied to our attractiveness. We must learn to appreciate and accept the endless array of attributes that make each of us a wonderfully and gorgeously unique human. We must discover for ourselves the truth that our worth lies solely in our existence. That to exist is to be worthy of love and acceptance and fulfillment and companionship and tenderness and happiness. When we can see and accept that our existence is what makes us worthy, we will finally be able to accept our own worthiness, to love our female skin in all of its unique glory, and to walk confidently and comfortably in a world desperate for the love that we can now freely give.

Roan studied the photo in his hand. Shiloh Gallagher had to be twenty-nine years old according to what Maud had told him. Damned if she didn’t look twenty-five or so, her features unlined. She wasn’t model pretty, but she had an arresting face, with huge intelligent-looking green eyes. His gaze dropped to her mouth and he felt himself stir. Her mouth would make any man go crazy. Her upper lip was full, but thinner than her lower one. The shape of her mouth made him feel heat in his lower body. “Is she married?” “No,” Maud said. She’s single. Never did marry. I don’t know why. Shiloh’s a beautiful girl.” She was hardly a girl, but Roan said nothing because he was fully reacting to her as a woman. He wondered if she was curvy or rail thin. He was disgruntled over his avid curiosity. “I have no problem with it. You know I get up early and come in late. She’s going to have to fend for herself. I’m not cooking for her.” “Right,” Maud agreed. “She’s pretty shaken up, Roan. You might find that stressful until, hopefully, Shiloh will start to relax.” Shrugging, he slid the photo onto the desk. “Maud, I just hope I don’t stress her out with my award-winning personality,” he said, and he cracked a small, sour grin. Maud cackled. “I think you’ll like her, Roan. She’s a very kind person. An introvert like you. Just remember, she’s trying to write. Because of the stalking, she’s suffering from writer’s block and she’s got a book due to her editor in six months. So, she’s under a lot of other stress.” “I’ll handle it, Maud. No problem.” “Good,” Maud said, relieved. She sat up in the chair. “I’ll call Shiloh back, let her know she can come, and I’ll find out what time she’s arriving tomorrow. I’d like you to pick her up at the Jackson Hole Airport. So take that photo with you.” He stood, settling the cowboy hat on his head. “Don’t need the photo.” Because her face was already stamped across his heart. Whatever that meant. “I’ll find her after she deplanes, don’t worry. Just get back to me on the time.

So Dad was a tedious, well-connected workaholic. But the other thing you need to understand is that Mom was a living wet dream. A former Guess model and Miller Lite girl, she was tall, curvy and gorgeous. At thirty-eight, she had somehow managed to remain ageless and maintained her killer body. She’s five-foot-nine with never-ending legs, generous breasts and full hips that scoop dramatically into her slim waist. People who say Barbie’s proportions are unrealistic obviously never met my stepmother. Her face is pretty too, with long eyelashes, sculpted cheekbones and big, blue eyes that tease and smile at the same time. Her long brown hair rests on her shoulders in thick, tousled layers like in one of those Pantene Pro-V commercials. One memory seared in to my brain from my early teenage years is of Mom parading around the house one evening in nothing but her heels and underwear. I was sitting on the couch in the living room watching TV when a flurry of long limbs and blow-dried hair burst in front of the screen. “Teddy-bear. Do you know where Silvia left the dry cleaning? I’m running late for dinner with the Blackwells and I can’t find my red cocktail dress.” Mom stood before me in matching off-white, La Perla bra and panties and Manolo Blahnik stilettos. Some subtle gold hoop earrings hung from her ears and a tiny bit of mascara on her eye lashes highlighted her sparkling, blue eyes. Aside from the missing dress, she was otherwise ready to go. “I think she left them hanging on the chair next to the other sofa,” I said, trying my best not to gape at Mom’s perfect body. Mom trotted across the room, her heels tocking on the hard wood floor. I watched her slim, sexy back as she lifted the dry cleaning onto the sofa and then bent over to sort through the garments. My eyes followed her long mane of brown hair down to her heart-shaped ass. Her panties stretched tightly across each cheek as she bent further down. “Found it!” She cried, springing back upright, causing her 35Cs to bounce up and down from the sudden motion. They were thrusting proudly off her ribcage and bulging out over the fabric of the balconette bra like two titanic eggs. Her supple skin pushed out over the silk edges. And then she was gone as quickly as she had arrived, her long legs striding back down the hallway.

Sam stood on the second floor veranda of the hotel, across from the pool, and looked out spotting Claire. His heart took a tiny leap in his chest when he first caught sight of her in the crowd around the pool, he zeroed in on her face instantly, like a computer program scanning faces. Her almond-shaped brown eyes captivated him, even at the great distance. When she stood up from the lounger, he instinctively reached down for the railing to grab on to something. It was the first time he'd seen her in a bathing suit. Wow. She looked lovely. Her exposed cafe latte colored skin glowed. Purple was her color, and it showcased her small, but curvy body the one he'd held tightly just a few short hours ago.

The Wishbone in Your Pants What the head of the penis is to a man, the clitoris is to a woman—literally. We all start out the same in the womb until biology decides whether our erectile tissue covers a penis or is made into a nub with a set of legs and bulbs.

Consent can be sexy! Reframing a question as part of seduction/foreplay allows couples to be clear about what kind of sexual activity is allowed while keeping the mood alive. Saying, “I’m wondering what it would be like to kiss you” in a soft, seductive tone can feel easier (and hotter) in a steamy moment than, “Do you mind if I kiss you?

I’m sorry,” she murmured, rousing after a minute. Her breathing had begun to return to normal and awareness was starting to creep back in, particularly of his cock still buried hard and deep inside her. She propped herself up on her elbow. “I shamelessly used your body to get off and was too impatient to wait for you.” “Just so you know, you are welcome to shamelessly use my body to get off any time you want.

My first night across the border I stopped at a ramshackle cantina that had a warped bar counter and dirt floor, like in the old west, and bought a drink for a tiny but curvy little Mexican girl named Calida. She had a cherub-like face that belonged in a cradle but a body that suggested nothing less than a grown man could pacify her now.

Saintcrow watched her for several minutes, admiring her curvy bottom, the way the moon cast silver highlights in her hair, the sound of her heart as it began to beat fast. All his predatory instincts came to life as he watched her run away from him. Yanking off his boots and socks, he pursued her. She let out a squeal when he grabbed her to the ground, twisting at the last minute so that she landed on top of him. She stared down at him, breathless, a hint of fear in her eyes. He took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of her hair and skin, the tempting scent of her blood. Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her. The salty smells of sea and sand clung to her skin. He tasted it on her lips. She moaned softly as he rolled over, tucking her beneath him. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer. And all the while, she made little hungry sounds deep in her throat. Holding her close, he whisked them up into the hills above the bay. Removing his long leather coat, he held her to his chest with one arm while he spread his coat on the ground, then lowered her onto it. With hands that moved faster than her eyes could follow, he removed her clothing and his own, and then he gathered her body to his, his hunger for her blood, his longing for her body, merging in a maelstrom of desire that would not be ignored. She writhed beneath him, as eager as he, her hands roaming over him, now caressing him, now raking her nails across his back, down his chest. With a low growl, he buried himself deep within her, felt her answering cry of pleasure as desire engulfed them.

Allison had once taken stock of every description she could think of for large bodies, and they were pretty much all food-related: pear-shaped, apple-shaped, juicy bottom, big melons, etc. It was disgusting. So, until everyone started referring to thin people as ‘asparagus-shaped,’ Allison would be curvy or plus-sized, or if she really wanted to watch people have a shock, fat.

Fuck, I could eat everything,” she mutters. Looking down, I run my eyes over tiny, curvy body. “And put it where, your attitude?” I snort. Her head jerks up, and her eyes narrow on me. “I will get my bat on you again,” she hisses, making me laugh. She smiles back, and I shake my head. I look up to see everyone gawking at me in shock.

She made her easy way down the outside steps. "Are you trying to catch flies?" she asked, a laugh in her voice. "You must have seen a woman all made up before." I closed my mouth. I felt like I'd never seen her before. Silky violet fabric hugged her body like it never wanted to let her go, dipping in at her waist and sweeping out at her hip. It ended just above her knees and made her curvy legs look like they went on forever before they got to her gold flats. When her raspberry-pink mouth curled in a warm smile, she glowed, and it was like a light bulb suddenly lit up in my head. I wasn't horny and restless because I hadn't gotten any in almost ten months. It was because I wanted her. Only her. I wanted to bite her lush lower lip, suck the sweet curve where her shoulder met her neck. I wanted to bury my face where her neckline curved down. I wanted to bury my face in a lot of other places, too.

Women in America often sought a lean and toned physique. I had grown up with a far different standard of women’s beauty. Soft and curvy was more alluring to me than cut, lean muscle. I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect female form than Emily’s tempting body. The contours of her rounded breasts and hips contrasted with her slim waist were enough to make a man insane with need. I had to lecture myself at least once during every class to keep my eyes from straying.

What else did her mother tell you?” Ethan asked, looking for any advantage in his task of winning her over. “That she’d call us later and give us pointers on wooing her daughter. Apparently, Naomi has something of a stubborn nature.” A snort escaped him. “I hadn’t noticed.” Javier paced the living room as Ethan stroked Naomi’s silky hair, unable to resist running his fingers through the long brown strands. “What are you thinking?” “That fate is laughing at me.” A chuckle made Ethan’s chest vibrate, causing Naomi’s head to jiggle. He cradled her head in his big palm to prevent her from falling before replying. “She’s certainly not what either of us expected, that’s for sure.” Javier shot him a dark look. “No shit, Sherlock. I mean don’t get me wrong, short and curvy works fine for me, but I always expected, if ever fate was cruel enough to curse me, she’d at least give me a woman who likes me.” “I’m sure she will in time. We took her by surprise, not to mention she’s in pain. Besides, I kind of like that she’s feisty. She’ll need it to keep up with us.” Round eyes and an open mouth met his answer. “You, my friend, are insane. One ball too many to the head I think. I mean, not only does she not want you, shouldn’t you be more pissed that it looks like she’s meant for both of us?” Ethan shrugged. “I’ll admit, I never expected to share, but if fate says that’s my lot, then at least it chose someone I could tolerate. And beat in a wrestling match if I need to. Besides, I’ll only have to share if you bother to stick around to mark her.” “Oh, I’m staying, so you can forget about keeping her for yourself,” Javier replied shooting him a dark look. “What happened to I’m not meant for monogamy?” Ethan pitched his voice mockingly. A sigh emerged from Javier’s mouth before he slumped in the chair across from him. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. It’s hard to think at all with my damned cat yammering for me to bite her. Mayhap if you were to claim her first, the need for me to do so would vanish?” The optimism in his friend’s voice made him laugh again. “Sorry, no such luck I’m afraid. From everything I’ve ever heard, once you find the one, you’re done for. The need to mark her, claim her, just gets stronger and stronger.” Already the urge to take her rode Ethan hard. It didn’t help that he held her cuddled on his lap, her sweet fragrance tickling his nose while her lush body pressed against his turgid cock.

At times I forgot the body I wore

friend and business partner, Eva, appeared from the storage room wearing antlers and holding two hats: a Santa in one hand, an elf in the other. She glanced at the mute stereo and shot Andi a look. “Which do you think?” she asked and held up the hats. “Go with the reindeer,” she said. “Santa is overdone and if you dress as an elf, people might get the wrong idea about Santa’s little helper.” With Eva’s tall, curvy body, pretty much anything she wore

Sylvan didn’t know what in the seven hells was happening to him. First his fangs had come out—not once, but twice. And the second time he hadn’t even noticed. Thankfully he’d been able to force them to retract, though the feeling was akin to having his erect cock bound in a too-tight pair of pants. But now his mating scent was apparently emanating from every pore. He could barely smell it himself—it was too much a part of him. But why else would Sophia have rubbed herself against him like that? Her soft, curvy body. The fullness of her breasts against my chest. Her warm secret scent… She even seemed to like the press of my shaft against her—at least she didn’t move away. He shook his head. No, there was no way the shy, obviously inexperienced Sophia would have made such a wanton display if his mating scent wasn’t out in full force. But it shouldn’t be! I have sworn never to call a bride. Sworn it in the sacred grove before the statue of the Mother herself. Why is this happening to me? He didn’t know. His boots clicked and echoed as he strode along the endless lines of docked vehicles, looking for the shuttle that he and Baird shared. Finally, he found it at the end of a short row of similar craft. It was long and sleek and silver—with a very small enclosed space inside. He threw a glance back at Sophia who was nearly running to keep up with his long strides. What if his mating scent filled the cabin of the shuttle as it had the compartment of the transport tube? Was there any way to suppress it? Sylvan wished he knew but he had never heard of a warrior with his problem before. Usually when a Blood Kindred’s fangs came out and his mating scent began exuding, he was mentally and emotionally ready to claim his bride. But I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. And even if I was, even if I would dream of breaking my vow, Sophia would never have me. He

She lies.” Deep looked at his twin and something—some understanding or silent communication—passed between them. “There is no other male. There hasn’t been for months.” Slowly he rose to his feet and took a step toward Kat. Towering over her, he looked down into her eyes. “No male in your bed to hold you, to stroke your luscious, curvy body and make you purr. Now why would you lie about something like that, little Kat?” Kat had taken enough of his crap. Reaching up, she slapped him as hard as she could. “I don’t know what your problem is,” she told Deep, breathing hard. “But my personal life is none of your goddamn business.” Deep rubbed his jaw and gave her a sardonic smile. “Forgive me. I was just making a point.” “What

She was one of three very curvy witches. They had magic in their blood. They were big. They were voluptuous. They loved their bodies.

Isobel?" Why on earth would she open the door and allow the winter wind to blast into the cottage, especially wearing naught but her underclothing? Dirk hurried across the room, drew her back and closed the door. "What are you doing?" Her eyes were open but she wasn't looking at him. Was she asleep? "Go back to bed, Isobel." With his hands on her upper arms, he gently turned her toward the bed. She resisted and reached for the door. "Going home." He could understand that, for he wanted to go home, himself. But neither of them could do that at the moment. Knowing she wasn't going to obey him, he lifted her into his arms. She was light as a wee thistle flower but not near as prickly. He'd helped her mount the horse a few times, but he'd never held her like this, in his arms with her curvy body leaning against him. When he turned with her, she giggled. The playful sound wound through his body in a heated swirl of excitement. She slid her arms 'round his neck and held on tightly while he carried her back to the bed. She snuggled her face against his neck, her warm breath teasing his skin. Arousal surged through him, but when she kissed his throat, he thought he might go up in flames. Saints! He wanted to do the same to her, trail kisses down her throat, untie her smock and… He shook his head, trying to clear it. Standing by the bed, he remained still, though his instincts raged at him to crush her sweet body beneath his on the mattress. He drew in a deep breath, fighting to calm his desires. "Are you awake?" he whispered. She hummed a sleepy sound and placed another wee kiss against his neck. Restraining a moan, he glanced down at her. In the dimness, he couldn't see if her eyes were open or closed. But she smelled heavenly, like lavender and woman. Just put her in the bed and leave her be! He lowered her to the mattress but she did not relinquish her hold on his neck. He knew he should simply remove her slender arms, but he couldn't seem to make himself do it. Her breath tickled his face. Her mouth, no less than an inch or two from his, tempted him, made him crave just one taste.

Being a bloodsucker had done wonders for my body, but I was still a little curvy, yet still had a small stomach. I liked my stomach. Washboards were overrated and not very fun. Russell had a washboard stomach. In fact, he might have just been the hardest human being I’d ever touched. Yes, hard looked good, but wasn’t very fun to snuggle next to. Russell

Baird had wanted to go with her for one last goodbye but Sylvan had convinced him it would be a bad idea. It would, too. If he’d gone down with her, Baird wasn’t sure he could have brought himself to leave her, even though she’d been fighting for her freedom from him from the moment he first called her. At least she got what she wanted. She never wanted to be bonded to me, never wanted me as her mate. All she cared about was getting her old life back, seeing her sister every day. But if she wanted that so much, why was she crying when she said good-bye? Baird didn’t have an answer for that. He could still feel her soft, curvy body against him, could still hear her soft sobbing in his ears. When the time had come to go, she had thrown herself into his arms, trembling and saying, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” over and over again. Baird hadn’t had any words to give back to her—he was past words now. He’d only been able to hold her tight and press his face to her neck to breathe her sweet scent one more time. One last time. And then she was gone. Gods,

So now you’re a body language expert?” “Nah, but I can read your body language.

Lead the way, Ethan.” There are many other places I would like to lead her and that beautiful curvy body, but I abstain. But for how long will I have to do it?

Existing in my body and not being ashamed of who I was and how I looked was only an act of confidence to people who viewed me as if something was wrong with me.

I’d never kissed a boy before Ray, and now I knew I wouldn’t again. Ray was more than some guy at school. The way he made my body come alive and fall apart in his hands was everything. No one would be able to replace this feeling, not even come close.

Just like there are television commercials and magazine ads that try to tell girls that fat is bad, there are also messages that tell girls that they must have big breasts and curves to be real girls. Of course, you know that is ridiculous because there is no such thing as a "real" girl. If you feel like a girl, you are a girl! Your genes, which are specifically made only for you, may mean you are going to be tall and thin or short and thin. Being a girl with a thin body is just as good as being a girl with a curvy or round body. There is no such thing as a better body than any other. No matter what, your body is growing into the body it was meant to be-perfect for you!

My red hair, pretty face, and curvy body get ‘em every time.” ~ Kat Roberts

Within seconds her dappled curvy silhouette moves towards me. Our bodies collide, skin on skin...

Can’t wait to see her standing. Have a full view of her entire body. See how tall she is. Know if she’s as curvy all over as her generous chest seems to indicate. But you know what? She could have a wooden leg for all I care.

Doesn’t hurt that you’re a smokeshow either,” he says. I stop at a stop sign and glance in his direction. He’s grinning like a fool. “Stop that.” “Stop what?” he asks as he reaches over to my side of the truck and attempts to place his hand in mine. I quickly retreat. “Stop trying to flatter me. I don’t need your inflated opinion of my looks to get me to say yes to your foolish idea. I’m comfortable with how I am and what I see in the mirror.” “Inflated opinion?” he says, his voice changing from easygoing to serious. “That’s not an inflated opinion, that’s facts. You’re hot, Aubree. I have no problem saying that.” “Please, Wyatt⁠—” “Please, what? Tell you more? Okay,” he continues. “You have these very intense green eyes that suck me in immediately because I have to know if they’re real or not. It’s difficult not to stare, not get captured. Then there are your freckles, barely visible to the naked eye, but they darken when you’ve been outside longer. I’ve never been a hair man, but something about those braids you like to wear flips my stomach upside down. And not that I should mention your body, but fuck, Aubree, it’s curvy but muscular, soft but strong. You can hold your own, but you also look like someone I’d like

Oh my god! I suck-” She gagged. “Did y’all run a train on me?” Hunter cried. This time tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “Hell yea. We was in this bitch wearing that monkey out.” Dai licked his lips, eyeing her curvy body in the thin sheet.

It starts before you can remember: you learn, as surely as you learn to walk and talk, the rules for being a girl. You are Princess. You are Daddy’s Little Girl. Are you ticklish? Give him a hug. You’re sweet, aren’t you? You’re a good little girl. You don’t remember those early days, but here’s what you do remember: You remember ballet class, the way your tummy stretched your pink leotard and your parents fretted over some future eating disorder, and then you were trying tap, or soccer, or what about a musical instrument? You remember “We just want you to be happy!” and you remember you said you were happy because you knew that’s what they wanted to hear. How long have you been saying what everyone else wants to hear? Time went on, and GIRLS CAN DO ANYTHING! So speak up, I can’t hear you! But also: Manners, young lady. A boy is bothering you at school? Stand up for yourself! A boy is bothering you at school? He’s just trying to get your attention. Do you like sparkles and unicorns and everything pink? Oh, that’s stupid now. Can you play in this game? Sorry, no girls allowed. Put a little color on your face. Shave your legs. Don’t wear too much makeup. Don’t wear short skirts. Don’t distract the boys by wearing bodysuits or spaghetti straps or kneesocks. Don’t distract the boys by having a body. Don’t distract the boys. Don’t be one of those girls who can’t eat pizza. You’re getting the milkshake too? Whoa. Have you gained weight? Don’t get so skinny your curves disappear. Don’t get so curvy you aren’t skinny. Don’t take up too much space. It’s just about your health. Be funny, but don’t hog the spotlight. Be smart, but you have a lot to learn. Don’t be a doormat, but God, don’t be bossy. Be chill. Be easygoing. Act like one of the guys. Don’t actually act like one of the guys. Be a feminist. Support the sisterhood. Wait, are you, like, gay? Maybe kiss a girl if he’s watching though—that’s hot. Put on a show. Don’t even think about putting on a show, that’s nasty. Don’t be easy. Don’t give it up. Don’t be a prude. Don’t be cold. Don’t put him in the friend zone. Don’t act desperate. Don’t let things go too far. Don’t give him the wrong idea. Don’t blame him for trying. Don’t walk alone at night. But calm down! Don’t worry so much. Smile! Remember, girl: It’s the best time in the history of the world to be you. You can do anything! You can do everything! You can be whatever you want to be! Just as long as you follow the rules. - Rules for Being a Girl

Strategically placed spotlights illuminated the garden, and when she moved in front of one I could see the outline of her body through her filmy nightgown. She was curvy and woman-like, but her aura exuded innocence. In the past twenty-two days I had convinced myself that I was wrong, that it was curiosity or my quest for a story that fanned those sparks that had been dead in me for so long. But now, here, I knew it was a primal attraction I hadn't felt since Willa- the sleepless nights with her, the sleepless nights without her.

I believe everyone’s body is theirs and everyone has a right to love their body in whatever size and shape and package it comes in. I will fight for anyone’s right to do so. I will kick ass and take names if I have to. Your body is yours. My body is mine. No one’s body is up for comment. No matter how small, how large, how curvy, how flat. If you love you, then I love you.

Ever heard of The Asylum?” “The BDSM sex club?” Chingada Madre. “We can’t go there. It’s members only and I’ve heard it’s practically impossible to be considered unless you are sponsored by another member. Money can’t even buy its way in. It’s harder to get in than the country club.” He listened, nodding like he agreed with my report. “I can get you in.” What? Even his black ops training couldn’t do that. “How?” “I’m a member.” And then I died. Or my brain exploded. Or other more southerly places in my body did.

Your body is curvy and fleshy. It makes my dick hard knowing I have actual meat to grip onto. To fucking bite and bruise.

Over the years I’ve seen my body as an enemy to be conquered, deprived, and beaten into submission—that is, into the smallest possible shape and size. Occasionally I felt proud of its strength and curviness. But more often I saw it as a symbol of my personal weakness and shame, an outward manifestation of my inadequacies and failures. Catching sight of myself in a mirror—an experience I tried to avoid—could send me into a dark place for hours. I spent years wallowing in self-hatred because of the size of my thighs. My weight went up and down over those decades, from the low side of “normal” to mildly obese, but my level of despair and self-loathing stayed sky-high.

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I’d waited my whole life to truly find the one I was meant for. There was no way I would ruin that relationship with some ridiculous fling, no matter how curvy the body was.

Beauty lies within ourselves. It grows as we further love ourselves. It isn't defined by the clothes we don or the shape of our bodies. A succubus can be slim or curvy and yet command a room to all look her way. She has that ability from her walk to the way she smiles with pure confidence.

The man chuckled. “You would do well to speak kindly of her. She will be your Queen before long. “Over my dead body,” Rose snapped.

Okay, so technically it was your second date, but you’d gotten together before that, and you’ve known him for a while. It’s not like he’s a total stranger. Do you love him?” “Yeah, I think I do. I mean, I guess. It feels like love, but maybe it’s just lust. But yeah, I think I’m in love with the guy.” “How do you know it’s love and not just infatuation? You were kind of blown away when he said he was interested. Maybe it’s more fascination and hero worshipping.” “Hero worshipping?  Seriously, work with me here. I mean, it feels real.” “Okay, so let’s figure this out. What kind of real is it? Like you want to have his babies real, or like if he lost a testicle, didn’t have a job, and couldn’t have sex anymore because he gained five hundred pounds and his asthma stopped him from having hot sex, you’d still be by his side real?” “What kind of question is that?” “You know what I’m saying, don’t be coy. If you just want babies, it’s still infatuation. If you’d sit by his side as he got his testicle removed and gained a bunch of weight and couldn’t find his dick to put it inside of you anymore, would you still want him?” “Sam!” “What? It’s a legitimate question. You don’t have questions like that to measure things?” “Not to that extreme.” “Seriously, there’s a method to my madness. Picture this, he can’t find his winky anymore, it’s hidden between his legs, he can’t reach, he’s out of breath when he tries, and the most you can do is blow him, like that’s it. He might diddle you time to time so you aren’t feeling too hopeless in the sex department, and he doesn’t want you straying. Would you still be there?” Becky sighed, going with the flow of the conversation. “Fine, yes, I’d still be with him. He’s more to me than some hard body to have sex with. I really like the guy. I like talking to him, laughing with him, and learning more about him.” “Nice. I think you may very well be in love, Becks. Now if you could find me a guy like that…” “The one that can’t find his wiener? Or someone to love?” “Hey, I’ll help him find his wiener if he’s awesome.

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I might have walked away, let it go. But she whisks her shirt off, revealing a tiny sixties-style bikini top and that body with curves for miles. She is glorious, her peachy ass swaying as she drops the shirt like a dare, then saunters to a lounger. Yeah, I might have let it go if she hadn't looked back, a quick glance as though to make certain I was still there. I'm still here, honey. And I'm not going anywhere.